


Raisa's Secret

by Ray_Writes



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Episode: s01e05 Damaged, F/M, Family Secrets
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-12
Updated: 2020-04-12
Packaged: 2021-03-02 05:35:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,536
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23619850
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ray_Writes/pseuds/Ray_Writes
Summary: Oliver learns that the woman he considers a second mother has a past of her own, and her advice causes him to make a different choice regarding his secrets.
Relationships: Laurel Lance/Oliver Queen, Oliver Queen & Raisa
Comments: 19
Kudos: 48





	Raisa's Secret

**Author's Note:**

> Hello all! Bit of a random oneshot here, but based off a conversation over on the Lauriver discord, which hosts a number of Raisa fans. We all agreed that the show was wrong to just drop her character for the most part, and I personally think it had a negative impact on Oliver’s arc. Raisa was clearly originally set up to act as a foil to Moira and helps represent the pull Oliver feels between his birthright and what is right for his city.   
> While I think Raisa being a normal woman without secrets probably is the best way to put her in opposition to Moira, I and a couple others couldn’t help wondering what it might have been like had she had some secrets of her own. This little short is the result of that thought.  
> Many thanks to Okoriwadsworth once again for beta-ing and for suggesting the title. Thanks to you all for reading, and I hope you enjoy this look at a what-if!

Oliver’s eyes squeezed shut as the door slammed behind Laurel. He wasn’t even sure she had heard his pitiful plea to stay, torn as he had been to even utter it. Laurel _needed_ to stay away from him so that she was safe, but he couldn’t help wanting her near. Especially now, after the kiss, after he knew Laurel’s feelings still existed…

Or did they? Not hating him wasn’t necessarily the same as still loving him, and he was lucky enough not to be hated by her. She seemed scared and unsure of herself in the moment she had pulled away, as if reality had come crashing back down on her after one, blissful moment of reconnection between them. 

There had to be a million thoughts racing through her head, and he couldn’t blame her for it. Had he been faithful, had he not treated her love for him so carelessly in his past, things would be different than they were now. As it was, she had an angry father, a dead sister and her own reputation to think about. Any one of these barriers was enough to keep two people apart despite any feelings they might share, but all three? And his own secrets, the mission he had to carry out, that too lurked on the edges of what might otherwise have been the happy reunion of two lovers after his time as a castaway.

It couldn’t be. He had known that, yet his heart aches as he slowly turned at the sound of a knock on his door.

“Mr. Queen, if you're entertaining guests upstairs, should I have some drinks sent up?”

Oliver went to answer, startled to discover this so-called wait staff was carrying a gun under his tray. He barely knocked it aside before the first shot could hit him, then was knocked back onto the floor.

A million thoughts flashed across his conscious in a moment. Who wanted him dead, how to solve this, how not to give his skills and his identity away — but then, just as he reached for the tray to use as a blunt object to break the anklet monitoring device, his assailant cried out in pain and reared back, reached for the kitchen knife now embedded in his shoulder blade.

Oliver had witnessed many shocking, unbelievable things in his time away on the island and otherwise. But none had left him so shaken as what followed next.

Raisa, her eyes flashing in cold fury, moved forward from the doorway and hauled the hitman up by his shirt, spinning and slamming him into the wall. She knocked his head against it once, then jerked him back into the curve of her elbow to execute a perfect chokehold. The would-be assassin barely got his hands up to circle around her arm before slumping, unconscious. She let him fall.

Oliver remained where he was, frozen with the discarded drink tray poised to strike his anklet, as Raisa panted for breath. She took a step back and tucked some loose strands of hair out of her forehead, back into the low bun she wore.

Yet her look was the same motherly warmth he had known all his life when she at last turned to him. “Mr. Oliver, are you alright?”

“I… I don’t know,” he admitted in a daze. “Who are you?”

\---

Raisa had always feared this day might come. The day when another learned her secret. And one so dear to her as Mr. Oliver!

She hung her head. “I am not some imposter. You’ve known me your whole life. But… there are things about me you do not know. Things in my past.”

She watched the young man scramble to his feet, the tray clutched in one hand. A shield of sorts, perhaps. “Is he…?” He gestures vaguely at the man near her feet.

“Sleeping. I… I have not taken a life in decades. I never wished to harm anyone again, but when I noticed him — I did not hire him for your party. And I could tell he was armed.”

“Yeah, and I’d love to ask how you could tell, but we need to make sure the authorities pick him up. Ask the staff to end the party as calmly as possible. No reason to panic anyone just yet.”

She could feel his eyes on her as she turned and went to do just that. Raisa had no doubts that once the partygoers had left and the police had been informed of the unwanted intruder, Mr. Oliver would ask the questions he wanted. And she had no lie to hide behind. She could only hope that, with his own secrets, he just might understand hers.

Mrs. Queen was most distressed when she informed her of the attack, and contacted Detective Lance right away. It seemed he had received confirmation of a sighting of the Hood, so Mr. Oliver’s freedom would be restored to him.

Except that the detective hesitated, his eyes on the fallen hitman now in handcuffs. “What exactly happened here to this guy?”

Oliver’s lips pressed together, clearly trying to come up with something.

Raisa stepped forward. “I’m afraid it was me, Detective.”

Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Mrs. Queen and Mr. Steele’s widened eyes and Miss Thea’s gaping mouth.

“You?” The detective eyed her doubtfully.

“I was making my rounds upstairs when I noticed this man entering Mr. Oliver’s room with a gun. I panicked and threw what was in my hand.”

“Which was a kitchen knife.”

“I misplace items often. I’m coming and going from the kitchen to the upstairs, you see. I think the loud music particularly mixed me up tonight,” she lied. “But this man fell and hit his head on the dresser.”

Detective Lance glowered at them all — and Raisa could not help wondering how a man so predisposed towards mistrust and judgement could produce such a sweet girl as Miss Laurel — before hitting down her statement. “We’ll question him when he comes to at the station, but for now just don’t go anywhere.”

“I assure you she won’t be,” Mrs. Queen said. “Raisa has been with our family for thirty years. She’s completely innocent in the matter, and I for one would rather you question this man as to just why he was attempting to kill my son? Other than your ridiculous framing of him.”

The detective soon left under Mrs. Queen’s narrowed gaze, taking the assailant with him. Raisa’s shoulders relaxed, but only slightly.

“Wow, who knew Raisa was awesome?” Miss Thea asked before coming up to her and hugging her. It was hardly what she deserved; she was not innocent despite what Mrs. Queen had said. If anything, tonight’s incident showed that her long ago training still remained part of her deep down, no matter how far she’d gone to hide it.

The look she was met with from Mr. Oliver over Miss Thea’s shoulder certainly said he hadn’t forgotten, either.

Mrs. Queen ordered everyone to bed after the ordeal they had suffered, but Raisa was not surprised when her employer’s son slipped into the kitchen as she finished wiping the counters down.

“So, care to explain what you meant about not having taken a life in decades?”

She dried her hands on her apron, not quite looking at him. Instead, her eyes fixed on the knife lock missing one of its set; the detectives had taken the one she had thrown for their evidence. “It was different in the old country. You did not choose a career. You were chosen. And it was a great honor to be chosen.”

“Who chose you?”

Raisa’s eyes closed. _“Komitet Gosudarstvennoy Bezopasnosti.”_

“The KGB.” It was hard to detect any emotion from Mr. Oliver as he walked around the kitchen island toward her. “My parents never knew this, did they?” She shook her head. “What made you get out?”

So he was not intending to turn her in? “Time,” Raisa answered past her shock. “The assignments I was given, they wore on me. I realized, what we were doing was not protecting our home, but hurting our people.” She risked looking up at him, then. “You must hurt people to protect our home, too. But never lose sight of the path you walk.”

His eyes widened momentarily. “How long have you known?”

Raisa couldn’t stop a smile. “I told you, you are a good boy. You have only learned to harness that goodness in you. But,” she added, “I didn’t know for certain until the Hood asked Miss Laurel for help in saving that man.”

He ducked his head. “I’ve been too obvious. And Laurel… I think I have to let her go.”

“No.” Raisa lifted his chin with a hand to his cheek so he would look at her. “You will lose sight of yourself the more you push your loved ones away. Believe me.”

Mr. Oliver’s brow furrowed, concern as he gazed at her. “Was there someone you loved and lost, Raisa?”

She nodded, a lump rising in her throat. It had been so long since she had thought of Ivan. Another good man like the one stood before her, who was good enough to not ask further.

“Do not mistake being alone for being strong,” she advised him. “Everyone needs a foundation.”

“I scared Laurel, at Iron Heights. What the Hood is, it…”

“She was afraid of a stranger. She could not know what you were thinking inside.” Her hand dropped to rest over his heart. “Unless you tell her.”

Mr. Oliver was silent for a long moment. Then quietly he said, “Okay.” His lips turned up at the corner. “You really always know what to say, don’t you?”

“It is hard-earned wisdom,” she told him. Raisa walked away to hang up her apron. “Wisdom you and Mr. Diggle are free to borrow from when you need it.”

“Thank you, Raisa. And thank you for helping me tonight.” Mr. Oliver took another step closer. “And whatever else you’ve done in your past, you should know you are a good person. I learned that from you.”

Raisa looked down, not quite able to suppress the swell of pride at his words. “You should sleep. Get rest while you can.”

“Okay, I’m going.” He grinned and left, and Raisa felt the remaining tension ease out of her. Her secret was safe with Mr. Oliver, and she was free now to help his efforts openly. Raisa had felt something evil had been stealing over Starling the last several years. It was up to the man she still thought of as her young charge to steer them out of it, whether that was fair to him or not. He would need all the help from his loved ones that he could get, as much as he would allow them.

\---

Laurel sat in her car outside the Queen Manor, making no move to get out as she debated with herself.

She had been up through most of the night, trying to reconcile the kiss she and Oliver had shared. The kiss that, for a single moment, had let her forget all her troubles and hurts and just _be_ again. Be alive in some way that she hadn’t for years.

But even if she had admitted that she didn’t hate Oliver anymore, could she really open herself back up that way to him?

Her worries over that issue had been pushed aside that morning when she’d received the polygraph tests back from her father. Oliver had passed, but on the question regarding Iron Heights had caused a slight waver. Her assumption that he’d simply forgotten about their eighth grade field trip suddenly seemed suspect. And if he had lied about never being to Iron Heights… why? Was it somehow possible that he really _was_ the Hood, and had tricked her father and the rest of the SCPD into declaring him innocent?

She had to know, so Laurel let herself out of the car and knocked on the front door. It was Raisa who answered with a pleased smile. “Miss Laurel.”

“Hi, Raisa.”

“Mr. Oliver is in his room,” Raisa said.

“Um, thanks,” she replied, a little embarrassed that the woman knew who she was here for. But she supposed it would have been obvious. Laurel headed upstairs and down the hall, knocking softly before entering Oliver’s bedroom.

He was tense as she explained her reasoning about the polygraph test, even questioned her as to why she’d changed her mind on him being the vigilante.

“Oliver, I saw your scars!”

He stared at her long and hard before speaking. “Do you want to know why I don't talk about what happened to me there? Because if people knew. If you knew... You'd see me differently.” He swallowed and said, “You already have.”

Laurel drew in a breath. “Oliver—”

“It was me at the prison, Laurel. I’m the one you’re afraid of.”

She could see him now, exactly as he was. The man who had come home to apologize to her, the man who had stood in her darkened apartment and asked for her help, the man who had gone nearly to the furthest extreme to protect her in Iron Heights. Her breath hitched, and she shook her head.

“I’m not scared of you, Ollie.” At his shocked look, she knew she had to elaborate. “I know what you’ve been through now, at least a little. What that must have done… and you just wanted to save me. I can’t blame you for what you did. That man, he would have killed me if you hadn’t been there.” She stepped forward, slowly, giving him plenty of time to move or distance himself, and wrapped her arms around him.

Laurel tucked her head under his chin. As much as she was feeling right now, it wasn’t the time to kiss him again. Not until they’d each had time to process this new reality between them. And she thought he needed the comfort far more anyway.

He folded her into his embrace, and Laurel could feel his heart thudding in his chest, gradually slowing as they stood there together. “Thank you,” he murmured into her hair.

“I think I should be the one saying that,” she pointed out. “You told me the truth.”

“I almost didn’t,” he confessed. “But… I couldn’t lose you again.”

Laurel pulled back a little to look at him, licking her lips. “I think we need to have a couple serious talks. About us, about what this all means… but I’m not going anywhere if you’re not. Promise.”

“Promise.” He kissed her forehead, and Laurel’s eyes closed for the briefest moment. “Have you had breakfast?”

She shook her head.

“Me neither. We can talk in the kitchen.” He took her hand to lead her towards the door.

Laurel raised an eyebrow. “What about Raisa?”

He smirked. “Not much gets by her. But, I know I can trust her like I trust Diggle. And you.”

Laurel matched his smile with one of her own before heading back down the steps with him. If nothing else, this new phase of their relationship to one another promised a lot of good food.


End file.
